


Under the Cover of Moonlight

by notenoughcoffee



Series: Bad Ideas [2]
Category: Six - Marlow/Moss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-25
Updated: 2019-05-25
Packaged: 2020-03-14 16:21:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18951703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notenoughcoffee/pseuds/notenoughcoffee
Summary: Parr wakes up in the middle of the night to find Boleyn up to no good.Nonsense.





	Under the Cover of Moonlight

Catherine Parr was not one who typically slept well. More often than not she would greet the next day while mid-chapter of her latest book, promising herself that at the end of that chapter she would get some sleep. The end of the current chapter usually turned into  _ just one more chapter _ . One more chapter would turn into  _ might as well finish _ , and before she would know it, one of the girls would be shaking her shoulder, politely ignoring the little puddle of drool that had soaked into her sleeve while she had been draped over her book, and her day would begin all over again.

 

It was for this reason that when she woke on her own accord she knew something was not quite right. She gingerly sat up straight, careful not to jostle her neck and back until her tense muscles had eased from her awkward position. When nothing out of the ordinary could be heard, she decided to make use of her rarely occupied bed. Slipping beneath the plush blankets and sinking into the luxuriant pillows, Catherine could feel the strain in her spine dissipate. 

 

She was hovering somewhere between wakefulness and sleep, where the lines of reality blur together with contours of dreams, when something pulled her back toward consciousness again. She let out a grown, ignoring her reveries crying out for her to join them again and her body’s protestations. She rolled herself off the edge of the bed and stumbled over to her door. 

 

Lacking her customary grace, her fatigue made her descent of the stairs rather precarious. Her head swam a few times. Her vision went a bit hazy when she reached the landing, and she had to blink several times to clear up whatever it was she was looking at. 

 

When her brain finally caught up to the spectacle in front of her, regret that she had not stayed in beneath the covers and pretend like she had heard nothing overwhelmed her. She lowered herself to sit on the bottom step, scrubbed at her eyes and buried her face in her knees, too tired to take herself back up the stairs to bed.

 

“Move.”

 

It had been too much to hope that her quandary had been remnants of a realistic dream. She tilted over to lean against the balustrade, allowing for Anne to pass by her up the stairs. The flopping of her sandals against the hardwood flooring jarred Catherine awake again. It was the noise that had first woken her at her desk that night. 

 

As Anne came back from the direction she had just run off to, she let out a frustrated grunt at Catherine’s presence still on the stairs. The sound irked Catherine enough to make her sit back up and evaluate what Anne was doing.

 

Dirt trailed from the living room window marking the path that Anne had just traversed. 

 

Catherine leaned around to catch sight of the clock on the microwave.

 

“Anne, what are you going out to do at four in the morning?” 

 

“Nothing I can’t handle.” Catherine watched in confusion as Anne shimmied her way through the gap of the open window, inelegant and uncouth, laden with an unwieldy load.  

  
Harsh whispers alerted Catherine to another person outside. She followed the trail to the window and leaned out to see what was happening. 

 

Katherine and Anne were kneeling on the ground, immersed in their activity. Where there was once a stone bed overgrown with weeds, there was nothing but fresh soil inside beautiful, pristinely cut edges. Anne was busy pulling small trays of flowers from the tote bag she had just fetched from upstairs, while Katherine measured precise distances and marked them with little stones in the flowerbed. 

 

“We’ll have to hurry, Parr just said it’s 4:00. You know she’s always up before the sun,” Anne said worriedly, tipping one of the clusters of pansies from the tray and handing it over to Katherine.

 

Catherine stood, transfixed, as Katherine dug a small hole for the flower and made quick work of planting it. She watched as they repeated this process until all the trays of flowers were empty and they had created a lovely display. 

 

Katherine looked up and startled to see that Catherine had been watching them, she blushed at being caught red-handed. 

 

“What’s all this about? Couldn’t this have waited until daytime?” Catherine’s questions had been directed at the timid girl; however, it was not much of a surprise when the other gave her response.

 

“Well that wouldn’t be much of a surprise, would it?” Anne gave a derisive snort.

 

“Why are you climbing through the window, then?”   
  
“Every great adventure begins by climbing out a window,” she responded, rolling her eyes dramatically, “And the door squeaks.” 

 

Catherine gave the small garden another look before noticing matching flower beds along the other window and lining either side of the walkway to their front door. Darkness obscured the extent of how meticulous the girls had been in their landscaping, but even under the blanket of moonlight, Catherine had to admit that the garden looked gorgeous.

 

“Anne Boleyn! I know this was you!” Jane’s voice roared from upstairs, menacing footfalls pounding down the stairs echoing her voice. 

 

“She’s up! Leg it!”

 

Before Catherine could process the turn of events, Katherine and Anne had disappeared around the corner trailed by the sounds of their giggles.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: "What are you doing going out to do at 4 in the morning?" "Nothing I can't handle"


End file.
